3 Weeks of Grace Part #2: Hands and Feet

I took a 19-day whirlwind adventure around a few parts of Asia recently. I can't say I was expecting a lot, but I was surprised by Grace... (As usual, I hear you say)

I've travelled a fair amount in my time. But travelling with a "pastor" title can be quite a different experience, as I come to learn.

Like the immigration officer that does a double take when he looks at your occupation title on your immigration form. You can't tell if he's sheepish because he thinks he needs to let you through without asking questions or if he suddenly thinks he needs to treat you with more respect simply because you have a religious title.

Or when you're in the home of another pastor and suddenly you're no longer the kid waiting patiently at the dining table for the pastor to say a blessing before we all eat. No, it's a little bit weird when you're the one who's asked to say the blessing.


I've heard heaps of stories of pastor friends who have spent time in a village in one of the African nations where they were treated like the guest of honour. The chicken that has been saved for the special occasion is caught and slaughtered. And I remember thinking whenever I heard those stories that I would feel so uncomfortable being in that place of being a "guest of honour".

And then your hosts have you feasting on one delicious meal after another, and these mangoes that are so sweet and juicy as they take you around their city and share with you about their ministry. And you suddenly realise your hosts have been treating you like that "guest of honour," and you suddenly feel really uncomfortable.

But when your hosts usher you into the guest room upstairs and beam with pride when they tell you that you're staying in the room that "Reverend Don and Caroline stayed in when they were here," you suddenly realise you're not a guest of honour because of anything you've done. No, it's because your hosts recognise that as you fumble around in your early years of ministry, you're merely trying to find your sense of balance as you stand on the shoulders of giants. And they simply want to be gracious hosts to you as you pass through along your journey.

At least, that was my experience in my less-than-24-hour stay in Manilla, Philippines with Brother Eddie, Sister Fely, Sister Marlene and Pastor Bob, and all the other good people at Grace Family Helper Project. And in all the correspondence that followed after that short less-than-24-hour stay, they constantly remind me that I'm not alone in my passion for student ministries.

This.
This is what it means to be the recipient of grace from those who are the hands and feet of the Living Christ.

And this is why we, at The Bridge, are looking forward to partnering with the church in the Philippines.